Page 25 of A Bond Beyond Blood (The Butcher’s Daughter Trilogy #1)

J ack

A week after the alleged vampire king had returned and beat me to a bloody pulp, I’d begun to feel better, my bruises fading with time and the deeper injuries healing with rest and relaxation.

The stitches across my temple had already begun to fall out on their own—over here looking like Frankenstein’s monster, no doubt—and I was restless, though Vinny’s constant presence helped to make the time pass pleasantly enough.

Christmas had been a bust, which, when tallied up, made two in a row now that had been miserable for me, but now it was New Year’s Eve...

And I’d never felt less festive.

Even last year, the first New Year’s Eve after Dad died, I’d at least tried to go through the motions. If watching the ball drop from my brother Gio’s couch with a cheap bottle of bubbly from the bodega down the street could be considered trying .

In that year, I’d waited to confront the vampire who’d forced my father into a deal my family would never be free of, and the whole culmination of this past year led to somewhat of an anticlimactic end.

Not that getting my ass kicked wasn’t significant, but I’d imagined that showdown with Eli going so many different ways.

None of which left me bruised and battered—and him completely unaffected.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad, I did have the world’s sexiest nursemaid, and I couldn’t complain about that. But Vinny, as wonderful and doting as he was, had been less than forthcoming about Eli, giving me bits and pieces of information but very obviously holding back.

And there’d been no sign of the so-called king ever since. He promised to return in a fortnight , which was apparently an Old English term for fourteen nights —something I’d had to ask the internet because who talks like that anymore?—and so far, he’d kept his word.

Gannon hadn’t turned up again either, and though I knew that’s what I wanted—well, I knew that was what I should want—his absence irked me. He’d shown back up in my life out of nowhere, begging for a chance to explain his side of things, and I’d sent him away. As he deserved , thank you very much.

But... what? That’s it? That’s how much he wanted me back? He just tried once and gave up without a fight? If I was honest with myself, the fact that he conceded that quickly hurt almost as badly as when he ghosted the first time.

Gannon’s second abandonment proved something I hated to admit: in his eyes, at least, I wasn’t worth fighting for.

‘When someone shows you who they are, Jack,’ my father used to say, ‘ never give them a chance to show you twice.’

Yeah, well, Dad was right. I probably needed to accept who Gannon is and move the hell on.

Speaking of moving on, before Eli showed up last week, I’d been doing just that.

With each breath, the scent of bacon filled my nose, curling down into my body and rousing my stomach. I’d been eating a bit more each day, healing slowly, and this morning, for the first time since the fight with Eli, my stomach had begun to growl loudly.

I was getting my hunger back, which meant my strength would follow.

Which meant I’d get to spar with Vinny again soon—among other things I wanted to do with his body. He’d been strict about his hands-off policy while I healed, but keeping my hands—and mouth, and body—to myself was proving more difficult with every passing hour.

I’d begun sleeping in the nude to entice him, but for someone who was constantly worried about losing control and taking things too far, who frequently reminded me that I held all the power in this dynamic, his restraint was infuriating.

The man had complete control; it was cute that he tried to convince me otherwise.

And every moment that he remained by my side, sharing my bed, caring for me, loving on me, and nursing me back to health made me want him even more.

We’d been dancing around our attraction for so damn long; now that I’d had a taste of that explosive chemistry, I wanted more.

I wanted all of it. All of him .

Gannon who?

Maybe Gannon didn’t care to fight for me, but Vinny hadn’t left my side. Wasting energy thinking about my ex-boyfriend was silly considering the man currently cooking breakfast down the hall.

And good grief, the man could cook . It was hardly fair that Vinny was that beautiful and an incredible chef—who didn’t even want, nor need, the delicious meals he prepared. No, those were all for me. I’d had homemade soup and freshly-baked bread every day this week.

Just one of the many ways this man cared for me.

I climbed out of bed and pulled on my robe, tightening the belt around my waist as I strode down the hallway, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen and living area.

Vinny stood at my stove, his back to me, shirtless and beautiful as he prepared breakfast. The muscles across his shoulders flexed as he took a step back and flipped a couple of fried eggs in a pan.

I bit down on my bottom lip to keep my smile at bay, leaning my shoulder against the wall as I watched him work.

On the tray he’d been using all week to feed me in bed, a plate had already been prepared with bacon and sourdough toast, a glass of orange juice, another glass of something green and murky that I’d no doubt hate the taste of—and he’d no doubt make me drink anyway—and a small vase with a single red rose that made my heart skip a beat.

My eyes found their way back to the man in my kitchen as he returned the egg pan to the burner, turned off the stove, and spun around. He was standing before me in a flash, his face mere inches from mine.

“Like what you see?” he murmured, his focus on my mouth.

I nodded, licking my lips.

Vinny’s dark eyes lifted to meet mine. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” I paused, shrugging one shoulder as I decided to tell the truth. “Restless.”

His eyes tightened at the corners as they flicked back and forth between mine, nostrils flaring as he breathed me in, then he smiled devilishly when he caught a hint of the desire blooming in my core.

“Don’t do that,” I whispered, feigning annoyance.

“Don’t want me quite so loudly then, little Fiorino.” He tugged the belt of my robe loose until he could pull it open and reveal my nakedness beneath, resting his palms on my hips. “Now, hold still and let me look at you.”

I sucked in a breath as his gaze skated down my body slowly, the whites of his eyes turning crimson as he took me in. He ran his fingertips over the bruising on my side, frowning when the skin jumped beneath his touch. “You should be in bed.”

“I’m bored.”

He lifted one brow. “You’ll be getting back into bed after breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes and he pinched my hip, drawing a yelp from my lips, but before I could argue, his lips brushed against my bruised side, then his tongue darted out, leaving the briefest tease of wetness on my skin, before he lowered into a crouch to assess the bruising down my right thigh and the spattering of bruises that covered the landscape of my left shin.

He kissed up my leg and I whimpered as need burned hot in my belly, creating a throb between my legs that I refused to ignore. A week without his touch was long enough. Especially when he’d been touching me the whole damn time—just not the way I wanted, needed .

His patience had been maddening.

He kissed my right hip, then my left, then dropped to drag his nose through the patch of tight curls at the apex of my thighs, inhaling deeply and sending a shiver of lust through my veins so powerful it made my back curl.

“Vinny,” I whined. “Please. I need you.”

Smirking like the devil he was, Vinny eased me backwards until I settled into a seat at the breakfast bar, then he grabbed the plate and set it in front of me.

“You need to eat.”

I groaned in frustration.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, voice thick with desire that mirrored my own—though only one of us had lost all the whites in their eyes to crimson lust.

I swallowed hard, nodding at the same moment my stomach rumbled loudly.

“I’m hungry too.” He growled as he dropped to his knees and pushed my knees apart, then he buried his face between my thighs.

When his mouth closed over my pussy, I jerked as his tongue flicked forcefully across my clit, arching into him as his hands fisted into the curves of my ass. I gripped his shoulders, holding on as he dragged his tongue through my folds, licking me with slow, firm strokes.

I dropped my head back and moaned as he licked me, but then he stopped and I looked down at him.

“If you eat, I’ll eat. If you stop eating, I’ll...” He raised his eyebrows and my eyes widened.

“You’re a monster,” I whispered.

He winked. “So I’ve been told.” Then he nodded toward my plate on the counter, waiting.

With a grumble, I grabbed a piece of bacon and shoved the whole thing into my mouth, moaning at the burst of flavor on my tongue. “Oh, fuck, that’s good.”

Vinny’s eyes flared red. “Christ, Jacqueline, your fucking mouth.” He dove back between my legs with a hungry growl, ravishing me with strokes of his tongue that sent shockwaves through my core.

I bucked against his face, jerking as I chased each hungry drive of his tongue, each firm press of his lips.

His gaze found mine and I reached for another piece of bacon, shoving it into my mouth and earning a delicious wink from the man currently stationed between my thighs.

He pulled back, leaving a layer of nips and kisses down the inside of first one thigh, then the next, then he spread me open with his fingers and pressed both thumbs inside, massaging the inner walls, staring up at me as he sucked my clit between his lips and tugged gently.

I shivered at the heat and hunger in his gaze, the sensations of his mouth, his hands on me.

I shoved my hands into his raven hair and dug my fingertips into his scalp, pressing myself harder against his face, demanding the release I craved.

After a week of being touched and teased by this man, cared for and treasured, I existed in a constant state of frustrated arousal. Needy and aching with no release in sight.

I was ready to combust, so close to the edge that a breeze might push me right over.

“Vinny,” I pleaded.

He growled against my flesh, then shoved two thick fingers inside me, pumping with quick thrusts as he ravished my clit, curling his fingers with every inward drive until I began to tremble in the chair, shaking almost violently as I unraveled.

Each wave of release was accompanied by spasms of pain from my injured rib, my still tender tailbone, but I didn’t fucking care.

I needed this, needed him , like I needed air to breathe.

When my body stopped quaking, my breathing finally slowed to something in the vicinity of normal, Vinny stood slowly, those crimson-rimmed eyes holding mine. His fangs on display didn’t scare or repulse me; they sent heat rushing to join the pool of arousal he’d already created between my legs.

I don’t know when it happened, when I became this woman. I don’t know when I went from hating vampires to wanting one of them more than I’d ever wanted anyone else.

But as Vinny stepped between my legs and gripped my chin, I had the fleeting thought that this was the moment he’d need more from me, the moment he’d succumb to his hunger and sink those fangs into my neck.

What did it say about me that I wanted that?

‘I won’t bite you until you beg for it,’ he’d once promised.

And I knew he meant that. It was just that... Well, I was getting dangerously close to begging.

Vinny licked along the seam of my lips. “I want your mouth, Jacqueline.”

I shuddered from the hunger in his deep, velvety voice, and when I opened up and surged forward, he drove his tongue along the length of mine with languid, patient strokes, kissing me slowly until my pulse began to race once again, and my heart thumped faster and faster within the cage of my ribs, a crescendo I knew he could hear.

I moaned, grabbing onto his sides and pulling him closer, tightening my legs around his hips as our kiss deepened. I slid my hands to the front of his waist and started to unbutton his fly, but Vinny chuckled and stepped back, holding my hands captive between us.

“Finish your breakfast, little Fiorino.”